Chapter 304 Traitor Of Fur And Flame

Astaroth POV Perched on a ridge above the packhouse, I sat like a shadow stretched long by twilight—still, silent, soaked in rot and thought. The trees around me stood bare and brittle, stripped of bark, stinking of sulfur and secrets. I watched them. The packhouse stood like a monument of misplaced pride—stone walls too clean, glass panes too polished, surrounded by enchanted fences and armed guards with silver-tipped bullets. Laughable, really. Almost impenetrable.